Smoke Break
by WasJustAReader
Summary: CJ does some late night stewing on the first campaign


**This was written at the request of thebreakfastgenie over on Tumblr. I was in the mood to write CJ and Toby and she asked for something from the first campaign. So... ta da! I've never written anything from the first campaign before and it was harder than I expected, but I gave it a shot. It's not my favorite thing I've ever written, but courage and practice are both good, so it's posted. Enjoy!**

"Since when do you smoke?"

CJ jumped. "Jesus, Toby! What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. It's nearly two."

"I know," she sighed, pulling her coat tighter around her. "And I don't. Smoke, that is."

Toby raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly from the lit cigarette in her right hand to the open pack sitting beside her on the picnic table.

"I knowww," she groaned. "I just wanted to, I don't know. I was feeling rebellious and frustrated and wanted to burn something. God, Toby, just let me make a bad decision, okay?" she snapped.

"Okay, okay," Toby replied quietly, raising his arms in a gesture of surrender and sitting down on the other side of the table.

CJ sighed again and angrily snuffed out the cigarette on the dented metal top of the table before dropping it into a coffee can at her feet that had clearly been requisitioned for a makeshift ashtray by previous motel guests.

"I took one puff of the first one and coughed so much I thought I'd lose a lung. 19 year-old me would be mortified. But tonight's me will live longer," she said, sounding almost embarrassed. "I really did just want to burn something. And there's a fucking vending machine in the lobby selling these death sticks. A vending machine, Toby. Am I crazy for wanting to set things on fire? Or are we all crazy because we live in a world in which you can buy smokes from a machine?" She paused and took a deep breath before continuing, quieter this time. "Are we all crazy for being here?"

"Well, I think we're both a little crazy for having this conversation at two in the morning behind a motel in middle-of-nowhere Nebraska, yeah."

CJ glared at him, eyes shining dangerously in the darkness. "You showed up in my backyard asking me to join you on what is essentially a glorified cross-country road trip in which we have to justify our every move and try to convince other people that the trip has a glorious final destination and we should be the ones to make it to the finish line. And I said yes! Who does that? We're all crazy. Absolutely bat shit insane. Hop on the crazy train, folks, 'cause it's leaving the station and hopefully last dock will be 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, but who knows, your vote might not do anything! After all, we're just pitching an economics Ph.D. from backwoods New Hampshire! But you know, our message is good, so why not give us a shot?" With each word, CJ's tone had grown closer and closer to hysterical and now she sat, hands to her temples, and breathing heavily.

"You done?" Toby asked.

She nodded, closing her eyes, only to have them fly open a second later, before Toby had a chance to reply. "And before you say I don't mean any of that, don't! I do mean it, Toby, I do. Some days it feels like we're walking through mud with fifty pound weights on our ankles. Some days it seems like we're not getting anywhere. It's not every day, but there have been quite a few of them lately," she added, defiantly.

Toby just looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm actually done now," CJ muttered, not meeting his gaze.

"First of all, I wasn't going to say that you don't mean it. I know you do. But I also know that you believe it will get better, that we have a chance. Or you would have packed up weeks ago. And yes, that's what makes us all crazy. We're here and we're giving it a shot. We're trying to get a good man elected president. We may be crazy, but is the goal all that ridiculous?" Toby asked, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, but I like to believe it's not."

"Have I ever told you how much I hate it when you're right?" CJ groaned.

Toby chuckled. "You know? I think it may have come up a few times."

CJ snorted, and shook back the sleeve of her coat to squint at her watch for a second before sighing and giving up. "It's too dark. Too dark and too late. I don't need technology to tell me that."

Toby smirked. "And remind me whose fault it is we're sitting out here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping peacefully inside. You know, where there's heat. And beds."

"Hey now, Mr. Smart Ass, you have only yourself to blame for your situation. I was doing just fine out here on my own before you came along. Why _did_ you come out, anyway?"

He shrugged. "I was up, my windows face this way. I saw you come out."

"At least you get to look at some trees and the occasional mysterious woman on the picnic table, I'm across the hall. All I get is a lovely view of the parking lot."

"Well, I don't know about the mysterious part of that, but I'll concede because my ass is cold. C'mon, let's go in. Wake-up call's gonna come way sooner than we want."

CJ sighed and stood, tucking the pack of cigarettes into her coat pocket.

Toby didn't say anything, but as he placed a hand on the small of her back and ushered her back in to the hotel CJ felt the need to defend herself.

"It's a control thing, okay? I like feeling like I have power. Lord knows there's gonna be another day when I'm going to want to yell at you all and then go cry in a corner. Might as well have something to do when I'm done crying."

Toby quirked his lips into a half smile and rolled his eyes as the pair came to a halt in front of their doors. "Good night, CJ," he said as they both unlocked their rooms.

"Sweet dreams, mi amor. And thank you."


End file.
